


I'd rather you wake me up than the dreams

by kingsqueensroyalty



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I was on a criminal minds binge, Long-Distance Relationship, One Shot, Phone Calls & Telephones, Short One Shot, Spencer Reid Gets a Hug, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Strangers to Lovers, Texting, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29069634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsqueensroyalty/pseuds/kingsqueensroyalty
Summary: Lila Archer sends a text to the FBI agent she kissed in her pool.Spencer Reid answers the call of the victim of his last case.Some would say they're both bad decisions, but for them, it was the best decision they could've made.A short and sweet AU where Lila and Spencer stay in touch.
Relationships: Lila Archer/Spencer Reid
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	I'd rather you wake me up than the dreams

After he had thrown the magazine into his desk drawer and headed home for the night, Spencer Reid thought he had resolved himself to a decision. 

That decision, and that resolve, was undone when, lowering his aching and bruised body (scuffling with serial killers didn’t leave you walking away completely unharmed) into bed, his phone lit up with a text notification on his bedside. 

Normally he would leave it. He didn’t speak to the team much outside of the job, and if it was an emergency they would’ve called, that left his mom and few friends outside of work who would contact him.    
  


Yet something kept him up; maybe it was the adrenaline of being in another life and death scenario that day, but more likely it was the memory of Lila and their time together in the pool. 

So he reached for the phone. 

In the dark of his room the blue light stung his eyes and made him squint; he still recognised the number. Of course he would; he recited it to Garcia earlier. His mind rang with the sound of the digits, mouthing them as he read.

Lila. 

It was a message. Short and sweet. 

“ **Thank you for last night.** ” As he was reading another message popped into existence beneath the last.

“ **I know I said I would contact you when I’m next in D.C but it seemed worth doing now, like it was important. Goodnight, Spencer.** ” Reid felt that feeling get heavier in his chest, the one he tried to explain to Morgan, as he swallowed and his hands fumbled in their position around the phone. 

“ **I was happy to do it, but next time? Try not to drag me in the pool.”** He felt like it was a good enough attempt at humour, and whilst it made his heart beat faster it made the weight feel lighter so he clicked send.

Just remembering to add, “ **Goodnight, Lila.”**

-

Reid, in all his intelligence, struggled to put a name to what his relationship with Lila had become. Neither of their schedules had changed. They still lived cities away, but in between the hectic lives of a star and an FBI agent, there were messages. 

Lots of them. 

It was stilted at first, as all new relationships are when restrained within a digital barrier, but from the beginning it was something that brought comfort to both of them. There was an understanding there too. A lack of obligation that was so refreshing, it even made the days on end they couldn’t spare a few seconds to type a “ **Goodnight** ”, seem pleasant. 

Somedays their schedules would line up in oddly convenient ways. Spencer’s cases would wrap up whilst most of the city was still asleep in the early hours of the morning, but Lila would be sat, bored, in a hair and make-up chair - sending him a cheerful “ **good morning”** text that made the impending nightmares he would soon face seem less dreadful. 

A few weeks down the line and there was a weekend where Lila felt a little too watched in the LA party scene and would sit home in her living room, glass of wine in hand (white, never red, red looked too much like- ), trying to forget what they had discovered there. On the same night, Spencer would sit on his couch, eyes flitting over closed files on the coffee table, ones he knows he shouldn’t have brought home, but sometimes cases were too tempting, too serious to ignore. 

It was on that night they both discovered the reprieve, a call with comforting voice on the other end, understanding and willing to sit there with you until you could both watch the sun come up with bloodshot eyes, could offer.

Those phone calls always ended with the sky lightening and bodies that felt fatigued, more importantly, they ended with soft whispers of;

**“Have a good day, Spence** .” JJ wasn’t the only one to call him Spence anymore, but he had to admit - he appreciated the sound of it from Lila a lot more.

“ **You too, Lila. Speak to you soon, okay?** ”

“ **Okay** .” And they would hang up and go about their days, cups of coffee and well placed streaks of concealer, or sunglasses, hiding the fact they hadn’t even let their heads hit their pillows.

-

Lila had a press opportunity in D.C. 

  
Spencer knew this because the first thing she did after saying yes to her publicist was to call him up in her excitement. Perhaps another pairing would’ve made it a surprise, showed up to the office unannounced and expected a full weekend of fun, but they knew better. 

This, whatever they had between them, would only work with meticulous planning and honesty. A value that was especially important to Lila after Spencer hid the news of her manager’s death; since it had been nothing but the truth. No matter the unpleasantness. 

Spencer wasn’t meant to be working on the date, but precedent dictated that one call from Hotchner and he would be in there. To be safe, he booked his first vacation day. 

Lila’s press interview took place in the morning and would be done by twelve. After the morning to himself, he would head to her hotel (the interview being in a conference room there) and they would head to lunch. 

He was waiting in the lobby, a typically fancy place, marble features, too serious looking attendants when he was grabbed by a redheaded woman he vaguely recognised. With his memory, he was able to recall she was a member of Lila’s team and so he didn’t allow himself to outwardly startle too badly.

She started in a quiet but convicted tone; Spencer could tell (psychoanalyst or not) that she was not someone who took no for an answer, “Dr. Reid, Miss Archef is waiting for you in a tea room. I’ll take you to her.” and so she turned, steps quick but not hurried, before she had even finished the sentence.

Lila looked up at him when he entered the room. She was sitting at a little table for two, translucent windows curving the wall at her right and cascading her in light that made him realise just how long it had been since he had seen her. 

He stood, half a step in the doorway, clutching the strap of his stachel, feeling the leather twist under his tense fingers as he feared that it would be different here, in person with no phone or terrible nightmare tying them together. 

Then she stood up, the skirt of her dress hung loose in the quick motion and she smiled, “Spencer.”

And he was crossing the room, and taking her into his arms. He wasn’t one for contact mostly, but this was reassurance and relief all in one. A ‘you’re real, you’re here and you’re with me’. 

**Author's Note:**

> I binged season 1 of criminal minds, read a bunch of fan fiction about characters that I didn't know, and then wrote this. 
> 
> Not what I normally write, but I just wanted to get writing again! I hope you enjoyed either way, let me know what you think in the comments :))


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